he wanders, he's lost
by a-prickly-rose
Summary: Lukas' brother is diagnosed with cancer and he doesn't know what to do. Until Matthias Køhler comes into the picture. (Life, it seems, has ways of working out.) [cancer!fic] [dennor w/little!iceland] [human au]
1. Chapter 1

_**Title:** The Art of Falling Apart_

 _ **Author:** Whiskey Bloodsbane Pincher_

 _ **Genre** : Hurt/Comfort, Romance_

 _ **Pairing(s):** DenNor, minor SuFin and various others._

 _ **Rating:** T_

 _ **Summary:** __When Lukas' eight year old brother is diagnosed with cancer, his life shatters and he becomes a hollow shell of the man he was. But when Matthias Køhler meets the seemingly emotionless Lukas Bondevik at his brother's café, he makes it his mission to make the broken man smile._

 _ **Warnings:** Occasional bad language, mentions of cancer._

 _ **A/N:** I can feel my uncompleted fics glaring at me but oops, my hand slipped._

* * *

 **THE ART OF FALLING APART**

"When life crumbles to pieces, glue doesn't always fix it."

― _Korey Miracle_

Prologue: _Reflection_

* * *

On 13 February, 2015 everything started to fall apart.

Lukas still remembered the day to its very detail – _it was impossible not do so_ – he remembered the call – _the call that would change everything_ – he remembered the composed, cool voice on the other end telling him that his brother – _his little, eight year old Emil_ – had collapsed in school. He remembered scrambling off his chair, grabbing his coat and running out of his little cubicle almost manically – _his co-workers had watched his retreating figure in astonishment; he was usually a calm, collected man_ – even before the voice stopped talking.

The rest of the hour was a blur. He had jumped into his ratty, ancient car – _his job as a small time editor for a lesser known magazine had never paid much_ _but it had always been enough to satisfy the family of two_ – and driven as fast as he could, breaking at least a fifty traffic rules before skidding to a halt in the parking lot of the World Grace Hospital.

"Emil," he spat out at the receptionist's desk, "Emil Steilsson-Bondevik."

The blond receptionist had looked at him sympathetically – _he_ _would come to detest that look_ – and directed him to the room. He stumbled around the unfamiliar passages crawling with patients and doctors, with their sickly stench of death – _he would later be able to navigate them blind-folded_ – until he finally found the room and barged inside.

"Emil," he breathed out when he saw the toddler sitting on the bed, his legs swinging off the side. He had swooped in and pulled his little brother into a tight hug. Emil's tiny arms came up to hug him back and buried his head into his brother's chest. Lukas then became aware of the presence of another figure standing awkwardly in the room. A doctor, he presumed, due to the white coat she wore. Placing a protective hand over Emil's head, he looked at the blonde woman.

"What happened? Is he alright?" His voice sounded almost accusing.

The doctor's awkwardness shifted as she slipped into her professional role and nodded.

" _Ja_ , he should be. The fainting episode was probably due to exertion, but we are running some tests to be positive."

"They took my blood, bror."

Lukas looked down to see Emil smiling toothily at him showing him his arm, where a smiley-face band-aid was visible. Lukas felt his eyes soften, and the corner of his lip twitched up.

"And did you cry?"

"Nope!" Emil replied, shaking his head vigorously, his hair flopping into his eyes – _Lukas never managed to get him a haircut he badly needed; Emil wouldn't need it after a few months_ – and glanced at the stern-faced doctor. "Doctor Monika said that she'd give me a lolly for not crying!"

The doctor nodded, a smile gracing her lips.

"Feliciano will be back with it soon. In the mean time," the doctor turned to Lukas, "Could you please fill out some paperwork?"

Lukas nodded and set Emil down on the bed where the boy resumed swinging his legs.

"Yes, doctor."

 _(he didn't know that this was the calm before the storm)_

* * *

Two days passed – two more days of blissful ignorance – until _the call._ It was a Sunday. Emil and Lukas were curled up on the couch, marathoning Disney movies when Lukas' phone rang.

"Bror?" Emil asked, a pout making its way to his face. "I'll be just a moment," Lukas smiled slightly and ruffled his hair. Frowning at the unfamiliar number blaring up at him, Lukas made his way to the small hallway of their apartment and answered the phone.

"Who's this?"

"Mr. Lukas Bondevik, I presume?"

". . .Yes."

"This is from the World Grace Hospital. I request you to come here as quickly as possible. It's regarding your brother, Emil Steilsson-Bondevik."

And just like that, Lukas Bondevik's world started crashing down around him.

* * *

One hour later, Lukas was sitting at Doctor Monika Beilschmidt's desk trying to process everything she had just told him. There was complete silence except the distant sounds of Emil and Nurse Feliciano playing in the small room connected to the doctor's office. The walls of the doctor's office were covered with paintings of flowers, fields of flowers upon flowers. Certificates of merit adorned the wall in front of him and even more so were the frames with children smiling up at him. Smiling, _mocking_ him. The flowers, constricting him.

He couldn't breathe.

"Leukemia?" Lukas repeated, his voice was steady – _he was thankful for that, so thankful_ – but his insides beginning to crumble.

"There's a high chance," Monika looked at the man, pity etched on her face – _Lukas wanted to throw something at her; he wanted to do anything to scrape that look away_ – and continued, "We will run a few more tests. Take some bone marrow samples. But I urge you to prepare for the worst."

 _Prepare for the worst._

Lukas _couldn't breathe._

"Bror?"

His head snapped up to see his brother peeping into the office. He cautiously moved towards Lukas and scrambled up his lap. Raising a chubby hand to touch his face, Emil frowned.

"Are you okay?"

"Ah – Emil!" The ditzy looking male nurse rushed in after him, "You're not supposed – "

"Feli." Monika said softly, a silent plea to stop talking left unspoken as Lukas gathered Emil in his arms, hugging him tightly for a few moments before setting him on the floor.

"Go play with Nurse Feliciano, Emil." Lukas' voice was cold, emotionless.

Emil blinked, "But – "

Feliciano gently picked him up after a brief nod from Monika and carried the struggling boy back to the playroom. There was silence in the office.

"So," Lukas said, "Can it be cured?"

"It depends on how fast the cancer is spreading and on which stage it is. Then we'll start treatment."

"But _can it be cured_?"

Monika heaved a sigh.

"Usually. The treatment works better on children. But as I said, it depends on the cancer."

Lukas looked at the doctor – _he had never been gladder for his ability to mask his emotions_ – for what seemed like ages before nodding. Nodding, because he finally understood what was happening. Nodding, because he accepted his _– his little brother's_ – fate. Nodding, _because this was going to be his life and as much as hated it, it was not going to change._

Nodding, because he was afraid he'd start crying if he said something.

* * *

Lukas didn't feel anything when the results came back positive. He didn't feel anything when Emil was diagnosed with high-risk acute lymphocytic leukemia. He didn't feel anything when the only person he had ever loved was carted off to the hospital. He didn't feel anything when he realized how he had ignored all the blatant signs that had pointed towards this. He didn't feel anything when he had to give up his dream of becoming an author and devote all his time to working to pay the hospital bills.

He didn't feel anything but terrible, heart-wrenching, lonely _emptiness._

* * *

 _Yes, it was on 13 February, 2015, when everything started to fall apart._

* * *

 _ **useless author's useless a/n:** Yes, my writing sucks. But is that fact going to stop me? Apparently not. I have completely butchered Norway's character, yeah? Someone shoot me.  
I just love DenNor, okay? With Ice. Sick Ice. Please don't kill me for doing that. This isn't edited, so ehehe, sorry for the rampant grammatical errors? I really need a beta ;;  
Monika is Fem!Germany, if you haven't figured that out. I just had to because Fem!Paediatrician!Germany is such a win. Also, I have zero knowledge about leukemia. I do not mean to offend anyone. There might be errors in the information I steal from the internet, so feel free to correct them.  
Denmark will be introduced in the next chapter, where the events will probably occur a few months after the prologue. :)  
Okay, then. Review? Review whore needs reviews. /shot  
Danke! See you in the next chapter (which I hope will be up soon *sweats*) if you decide to stick around!  
\- Whiskey -_


	2. Chapter 2

_**a/n:** ahhhh, hey! asdfghlkl 8 reviews, 11 faves and 17 follows? What is this sorcery? This is waay overdue. I've been busy with school and stuff. Well, I finally wrote it though ;v; It's severely unedited, so please overlook the mistakes. I didn't have the time to proofread it /cri- I hope you enjoy this! _

* * *

**THE ART OF FALLING APART**

"Nothing is so tangled that it cannot be smoothed out."

– _Unknown_

Chapter I: _And thus, it began_

* * *

Berwald Oxenstierna was having a wonderful morning.

He'd woken up to see the sun shining outside the little window of his apartment, a welcome relief in the middle of a very, _very cold_ winter. And when he walked down to his little café, he's been greeted with the _very_ adorable face of one of his _very_ dear employees, Timo, waving at him through the window pane fixed to the door. His three other co-workers – an Estonian man named Eduard, a Latvian named Raivis and a Lithuanian woman, Tori – shuffled in soon afterwards, punctual as always (well, there was that _one_ other employee who was supposed to start today but Berwald staunchly refused to acknowledge his absence; the _idiot_ had probably forgotten he started today, thank the lords). Nothing was out of place and as he surveyed everyone ritualistically prepping for the day – baking the breads, preparing the cakes, setting the chairs back to the floor and the like – he couldn't help but feel that it was one of those days that nothing could go wrong.

Of course, that was exactly when the door slammed open and a very unwelcome visitor barged in.

" _Hej, hej_! Waldo, I'm here! Sorry for bein' late and shit, ya see I saw this really cute – "

Berwald zoned out as he took in the disheveled appearance of the intruder. His red shirt had been buttoned in all wrong, his hair had been pulled up in that ridiculous gravity-defying style which made him look as if he had just rolled out of bed in the morning which did not look cool in any way contrary to what _some people_ believed and _what the hell,_ _that seriously couldn't be the way you were supposed to wear a tie._ Berwald bristled, all his hopes of having a perfect day going down the drain.

Matthias fucking Kohler, the bane of his existence, the most irritatingly cheerful, self-obsessed, rowdy man to walk this earth, who also happened to his step-brother – the _step_ being the key word here.

There he was, prattling on about some insignificant cat he'd found along the way and gesturing, always _gesturing,_ with his stupid hands about the stupid cat and the stupid cat's stupid sleepy owner and how he thought said stupid cat was lost but it was not and –

– and Berwald _really done_ with his bullshit.

He wanted to say something like: _Shut_ _up. I couldn't care less about your little escapades. Just get inside and Timo'll show you the reins._

It came out more like a grunt and him awkwardly grabbing the Dane's tie and pulling him towards Timo who was watching their interaction from where he was setting down chairs with a kind of horrific fascination. Berwald wasn't the best at communicating with people. _Really_ not.

"Woah – bro, bro, I know you're excited but this is over – _ack!_ – kill! You know, I kinda can't bre-e- _eathe_ ," Matthias let out, stumbling to halt in front of Timo who squeaked a short ' _um, hi!_ ' Berwald just pulled on his tie harder and looked at his Finnish friend.

"S'rry, but could ya show him 'round? His n'metag's on the counter. Give it ta him. An' m'ke sure he does no' blow anythin' up."

"A-ah?" Timo tore his eyes away from the Matthias' face (which was turning purple at an alarmingly worrying rate) to look at Berwald, "Oh, yes! Yes," he nodded vigorously.

Berwald smiled (or at least _Timo_ assumed that the glower was a smile; he'd gotten quite good at reading the Swede's near non-existent facial expression) and hummed. He let go of his step-brother, who promptly dropped to the floor on his knees taking in deep breaths, his face slowly restoring its usual colour.

"N-not cool, Waldo. _Not_ cool."

"It's B'rwald. Now g'do some work if ya want yer pay." And with that said, Berwald left to the kitchens, leaving Timo to help Matthias up. He couldn't help heaving a huge sigh as he walked in, making his three other employees jump.

"I'm gettin' too old fer this shit."

(he was _twenty three_ )

* * *

"So, when can I work in the kitchens?"

Timo sighed heavily as he cleaned a table, trying really hard to ignore the large man hovering behind him. He's been dealing with Matthias since over two hours. The morning rush hour was in and he was busy, but Matthias didn't seem to realise that there were tables to serve and things to do which _did not_ include bothering the shit out of Timo.

"I don't think Berwald's going to allow that, Matthias."

"But I can bake! Come _on!_ "

"Matthias, please _move out of the way before I gut you_."

Matthias squeaked at the overly friendly smile that spread across Timo's face. His eyes glinted in a way that made Matthias think that he was _not_ kidding about the whole gutting thing. He slid out of the way and Timo nodded appreciatively. He moved from the table he had been cleaning and started to move towards the front counter (Matthias followed, much to his displeasure), but stopped short as the bells to the café's door jingled pleasantly signaling the arrival of a customer. His face broke into a warm smile when he recognised the slight figure of a regular, easily recognisable by the silver cross pin pinning his pale blond hair back and the blue satchel slung over his shoulder.

"Morning, Lukas!"

Lukas regarded him with a blank face and a short nod, and slunk off to his usual table at the far end of the café. Timo's smile dropped. While he was used to the abrupt and cold nature of the Norwegian, he really did worry for him. They had been friends – or at least, marginally friendly – until his brother got sick and he distanced himself from everyone. They'd offered him a job at the café but it seemed that the man was adamant on not interacting with people he knew. Timo sighed slightly while continuing on his way but suddenly paused noticing the absence of footsteps following him between the buzz of the customers.

"Matthias?"

He turned around to see the Dane looking at Lukas with a bemused expression on his face.

"Matthias, it's rude to stare," Timo admonished and grabbed him by his collar pulling him towards the counter. Matthias broke out of his trance and followed, but continued to look slightly dazed. Timo smiled at Tori who was manning the counter and relieved her off her position earning a gratified look. As she walked off to take orders, Matthias regained his hovering and asked:

"Hey, who was that?"

"Hm, who?" Timo asked distractedly as a patron walked up to him.

"You know who! That little guy who completely ignored you."

Timo frowned as he expertly manned the ancient coffee machine. "Don't be hard on Lukas, Matthias. He has it tough."

"Yeah, yeah," Matthias leaned forward from where he rested against the wall. "Lukas. What's his deal? He seems..." Matthias trailed off, a frown marring his face.

Timo sighed as he handed the coffee cup to the patron with a ' _have a nice day_!' and said, "Why don't I give you his usual and then you can actually find the answer out by yourself?"

Matthias grinned. "Sounds cool to me!"

And so, Matthias found himself with a steaming hot cup of black coffee (Matthias wrinkled his nose at that; how the guy could drink that bitter thing was beyond him), picking his way through the floor carefully toward the pale blond head.

Timo watched him go suddenly feeling immensely sorry for what Lukas was going to have to deal with.

* * *

Lukas was feeling like shit.

Well, he supposed sleeping in a terribly awkward position on a severely uncomfortable chair in a place that smells like death would do that to one. He let out a sigh and rubbed his aching eyes. These last four months had been positively torturous. He couldn't remember the last time he slept in a bed – and he probably wasn't going to in the near future. Emil's condition, though stable, was still fragile and oh god he was _so so so_ worried over the bills, over his brother, over his fraying sanity, over _everything_ –

"Rough night?"

Lukas snapped up, startled.

"Woah, sorry for that," the intruder – a new employee, he presumed scathingly if he didn't know better than to approach _him_ – laughed and set a cup of steaming coffee on his table, while continuing on sheepishly, "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare ya."

Lukas looked stared at the cup for a second (with such intensity that one might think that he was examining a particularly interesting supernatural being that had suddenly sprung into existence) before looking back at the man in front of him.

The first thing that struck him was the _hair._ A wild, seemingly untamable blonde mane sticking out in every direction (Lukas suspected that this was supposed to be _stylish_ or something equally horrific; people's minds, he decided, worked strangely – too strange for him to comprehend). And then followed bright, _bright_ blue eyes set on a rather handsome face (or was the right word _cute_ , Lukas wondered, what with that open _genuine_ smile). The nametag pinned on his shirt reading 'Matthias Kohler' in bold black letters was upside down. Then there was the…the…the… _what was up with that tie_?

" – and I'm going to take that a yes, yeah?"

Lukas blinked as the man took the chair in front of him and slumped into the seat with a kind of practiced gracelessness. Why did he do that again? Perhaps he'd blanked out. Well, that habit of his was certainly becoming problematic if it encouraged some particular idiots to have one-sided conversations with him.

"What," Lukas bit out, cutting through the man's – _Matthias',_ he reminded himself – rant (about.. _cats?_ ), "are you doing here? I don't recall ordering an annoying human-brat."

Matthias paused abruptly and looked at him for a moment before he burst out laughing.

"I don't think I'm that hilarious," Lukas said drily as he took a sip of his coffee ( _black_ , he thought appreciatively, _perfect_ ).

If anything, Matthias laughed _harder._ Lukas bristled.

 _"Go away_ ," he said, hoping the sheer venom in his voice would throw the blond teddy bear off.

It didn't.

"Hey," Matthias said between giggles (yes _, giggles_ ),"I'm sorry. Lemme introduce myself properly because you seem like a proper dude," he grinned widely at Lukas, "I'm Matthias Kohler. Nice to meet ya."

Lukas eyed the hand the man was offering with distaste.

"I'm afraid the feeling isn't mutual," he said.

Matthias lowered his hand but his grin didn't falter.

"So, your name's Lukas, right? What's your last name?"

"I'm getting some serious stalker vibes here," Lukas deadpanned, "and shouldn't you be working?"

"Aw, don't be like that Lukie," Matthias leaned back in his chair, the front legs lifting off the floor, "I was there when Timo greeted ya. And you're more interesting than polishing tables."

Matthias winked at him. Lukas suddenly felt the urge to strangle him with his stupid tie.

"Lukas," he said, taking another sip of his coffee to distract himself from his bloodlust."It's Lukas. And let me reassure you that I'm nothing interesting. You're just wasting your time here."

"No, no, no." Matthias let the front legs of the chair crash to the ground with a sudden _thud_ and leaned forward with an earnest face. "Don't worry Lukie, you seem _very_ weird – "

"Well, that's reassuring," Lukas muttered.

" – and," Matthias pressed on, ignoring his interruption, "you look very sad. I want to change that."

Lukas almost choked on his coffee.

"I," he said with an air of finality, " _do not_ look sad." And he _didn't_. He didn't look like anything. His face was blank, empty, bereft of anything. He wasn't _sad._ Why was this man so infuriating?

"Mhm, sure," Matthias didn't sound like he believed him. Lukas suddenly wanted to dump his coffee on the man's face (but that would be a waste; coffee was precious, and Timo's was the best so he digressed) . Why didn't Berwald realise that this employee wasn't working?

(But he had a sneaking suspicion that Berwald knew that his idiot employee was slacking but chose to ignore it for obvious reasons, the most obvious being his annoying presence.

Back in the kitchen, Berwald sneezed and wondered if Matthias had cursed him with the bug, _the idiot_ ).

"Lukie, you okay?"

Lukas' eyes snapped to the man waving his hand in front of him, looking unnaturally worried. Drat his blanking out. God, he wanted to sleep. He glanced at his wristwatch. Twenty minutes to his shift at the bar. Thank goodness his shift was at a time far from the rush hour. Maybe he'd get some peace of mind there.

"I'm fine. Perfect. And I have to go." Lukas stood up abruptly, rummaging through his satchel for some money. The bar was quite close but he didn't want to stay a second more with this man.

Matthias peered into his abandoned coffee cup.

"Hey, you didn't finish you coffee."

"Your fault," Lukas said monotonously (oh, how he regretted the waste of such a delectable beverage), and slammed the money on the table, earning surprised yelp from Matthias.

"Give this to Berwald."

With that said, he hiked his satchel on his shoulder and walked off, not sparing a glance at the stunned man he left sitting behind. He was annoyed, frustrated, tired (oh _, so tired_ ) –

– and the man who seemed to see right through him scared him so, so, _so_ much.

 _(All he was good at was running from what deterred him, so that's exactly what he did_ )

* * *

Matthias didn't move from where he was sitting even as the bells hung on the door jingled, signaling Lukas' departure. Instead, he just looked at the lone half-filled coffee cup sitting in front of him for a long time before he felt someone come up behind him and slide into the spot which Lukas had previously filled.

"So," Timo said, "how did _that_ go?"

Matthias just shook his head and leaned forward resting his elbows on the table.

"Matthias," Timo said warningly, "don't get any ideas. Leave Lukas alone, okay?"

Slowly, Matthias smiled, which was enough to let warning bells ring in Timo's head but what he said next made them cut off abruptly –

"That man," the blond said, "needs some happy in his life! How _could_ I leave him alone?"

Timo felt something tug at his chest at Matthias' huge warm smile and couldn't help but let a soft smile of his own slip on his face. He sighed, defeated.

"Maybe you're right for once, Matthias. But tread carefully. Don't rush him."

Matthias hummed in agreement. Grabbing hold of the surprisingly half-filled coffee cup, Timo stood up.

"We should get going now. We don't want Berwald to think we're slacking off, do we?"

" _Ja!"_

And as Timo greeted another customer, he couldn't help but repeat Matthias' words in his head.

 _"That man needs some happy in his life! How_ could _I leave him alone?"_

 _You know what,_ he mused, _I actually think you can pull this off, Matthias. Don't screw it up._

* * *

 _ **useless author's useless a/n:  
**_

 _reply to guest review:  
_ Meimei152: _Ahh, yes, TFiOS. It made my cry rivers of tears. I'm glad you liked this, though. I hope this chapter was also to your liking :)  
_

 _Holy mother of marshmallows, I'm sorry for all the blatant mistakes. Please don't hesitate to burn me at the stake.  
_ _Nor is such an interesting character. And so is Denny. And I hate it when their personalities are butchered. Which I've probably done rn. /cries  
_ _Please review, because I'm still a review whore. I'll always be one. Heh. Meet you in the next chapter if you decide that this is worth your time! ;v;  
\- Whiskey -_


	3. Chapter 3

_**a/n:**. . . hi. how many months has it been? *hides*_

 _well, things happened + writer's block, so i apologise for the extreme delay. reality is so. annoying. i'm still v busy but i couldn't resist the allure of dennor, so here it is._

 _ah, and i've posted this on ao3 too (i'm finding it much more convenient than tbh), so if you wish to, you can go read it there! it's under the same title (which i've changed, if you've noticed /cough)_

 _updates might still be sporadic, but worry not, i am not giving this up. i hope you'll enjoy this!_

 _(still severely unedited; please hmu if you're interested in beta reading this bc i simply have no time, ugh)_

* * *

 **THE ART OF FALLING APART**

"Still round the corner there may wait,

A new road or a secret gate."

― _J. R. R. Tolkein_

Chapter II: _Perseverance_

* * *

"You're early!"

Lukas looked up from his book and glanced at the man bouncing beside him. He gave a short nod before turning back to his book.

" _Luukas!_ " Lukas felt his eye twitch as a face popped up between him and his book. "Talk to me! You've read _Norska_ a million times!"

"Vladimir. Stop."

Vladimir whooped and sat down on the barstool beside him with a _thump_ as Lukas let out a resigned sigh and snapped his book shut and stuffed it inside his satchel. It was not like he was going to get any reading done now that this _menace_ was here. A menace who happened to be one of the closest people he considered as his _friend_ s.

Lukas felt really sorry for himself sometimes.

"Where's Artie?"

"With Alfred."

"Ew." Vlad wrinkled his nose and gagged. "I didn't need to know that."

Lukas raised an eyebrow. "I didn't say anything – "

"Dirty, I know." Vlad said and tacked on expressively. "But it's _Alfred and Artie_ we're talking about here."

Lukas really couldn't argue with that.

When Lukas didn't reply – he really didn't have any response, to be honest, a situation which he faced on a daily basis – Vlad spoke up.

"So when's our shift?"

"Half an hour before Lovino and Yong Soo get off."

Vlad groaned and dropped his head with a _thud_ on the bar. "Ugh."

Lukas snorted. "Did Georgi finally tire of you and throw you out of the house?"

Vlad blew a raspberry at him. "Oh, _ha_. He has to get to work early so he forced me to get up too. He dropped me off here." He scowled. "I hate saving money."

"It's a good habit," Lukas replied, tapping his fingers on the bar. Vlad hummed in response.

A beat passed.

"So how's little Emil doing?"

Lukas looked at Vlad for a moment before saying. "Good. Stable." _Alive._

Vlad's face lit up and he nodded. "I'll drop by today with you. "

This was what Lukas liked about Vladimir. He was usually like an overexcitable overgrown puppy but he had a good heart. And he _actually_ cared about Emil, didn't just pretend to. No one really went to the lengths to even visit Emil regularly but Vladimir and Arthur. They were probably the closest of Lukas' friends and the only ones who had pushed to be with him even when he tried to burrow inside his shell. He had been too problematic for others.

It was . . . _nice._

"Ah, Lukas! Vlad!" a voice cut in before Lukas could reply. "You're here. Thank _goodness_."

Lukas and Vlad simultaneously looked up see an exasperated Arthur dragging along a grinning (grinning as in _crazily_ ; he was clearly inebriated) Alfred over to the bar. Vlad chirped a _hey_ , waving frantically, almost knocking Lukas off his barstool.

"Arthur." Lukas said nonchalantly, grasping Vlad's flailing arm and twisting it. "Alfred. Hello."

"I'm awfully sorry," Arthur said, supporting an unsteady Alfred's waist with the larger man's arm draped across his shoulder. He expertly ignored the painful shrieks of Vladimir who was steadily turning purple in the face."But since you guys are already here would you mind doing me a – fuck, _Alfred_ , stop it!" Arthur cut off abruptly and squawked in indignation as Alfred's free hand smacked his backside. "Did you just slap my rump?" Arthur looked furious.

"That's a bloody fine lookin' rump" Alfred slurred in the most horrible English accent Lukas had ever heard and topped it off with a giant wink.

"You giant, bloody son of – "

"I'll take care of the bar." Lukas said, standing up and brushing his lap of non-existent dust. "Don't worry. I'll make sure Vlad and Yong don't burn the place down. I'll be starting my shift now." He glanced at Alfred before slinging his satchel over his shoulder. "Take him home."

Arthur smiled at him and nodded once. "I'll be back in two hours," he promised, "And pay you extra for this. Thank you, Lukas."

"You have pretty hair," Alfred broke in conversationally, rubbing a few strands of Arthur's hair between his fingers. "And eyebrows. I love your eyebrows." Alfred paused in rubbing Arthur's head before leaning forward and whispering not-so-quietly to him. "I love _you_."

Arthur flushed and pulled away from him but quickly reinstated his arm around the larger man when he wobbled. "Ah. . ." he mumbled awkwardly. "I'll be going now. Thank you again, Lukas." He turned and gently led Alfred away leaving Vlad and Lukas blankly staring after them.

"Well," Vlad said. " _That_ happened."

Lukas nodded tightly. "Good for them," he mumbled.

He gripped the strap of his bag tighter and moved to the staff room.

"Oi, wait!" Vlad yelped, hurrying to catch up to him.

The room wasn't much. It was small and had a series of cubby holes built into the far side of the wall. Each hole was assigned to a staff member. It was weird, unconventional and susceptible to thieves (but any thief would be subjected to Arthur's wrath so that was very, very rare; the man might look scrawny but he packed quite a punch), but it was like Lukas' second home. When Arthur had been younger, his brothers had owned the Royale Tavern but Arthur managed to sneak him and Vlad in countless times and the three of them held their own little book club every weekend. Lukas was fairly sure that these small escapes from reality when Arthur read aloud from Shakespeare standing over them, the words he'd almost learnt by heart pouring out of him, when Vladimir read out from the most torrid vampire romance novels, his words nearly indistinguishable between his giggles and when they just laid down on the floor talking about their lives, their hopes, their dreams – these moments were the only things that pulled him through the hell that is high school.

Lukas really, really loved this stupid room. (Not that anyone had to know.)

"You want a ride after shift ends?" Vlad said, breaking him from his thoughts, as he took off his jacket and stuffed it into his cubby hole. Lukas sighed and pushed his satchel inside his own hole and went over to Vlad to take his jacket out and fold it neatly.

"I don't want to bother you," Lukas replied.

" _Lukas_." Vlad reprimanded, now struggling to pin his nametag properly. "You never bother me. You never bother _anyone_. Come on. And I said I want to see the little guy today too, right?"

Lukas pushed Vlad's fumbling fingers away and pinned his nametag with a refined stroke. "Whatever," he muttered. And then, after a moment, after pushing his jacket inside his hole and pinning on his own silver nametag:

"Thank you." It was barely a whisper.

Vlad's face lit up and he opened the door. "Anything for one of my BFFs, yeah?"

Lukas glared at him as he passed by him. "Say that again and I will rip out your throat."

Vlad shuddered as he followed him. " _Geh_. Violent."

"Always." Lukas slipped behind the bar and nodded at Lovino and Yong Soo. Lovino just grunted in greeting Yong Soo beamed at them from where he was pouring out drinks (and consequently chatting off the ears of) for a familiar tired looking blonde woman.

"Aren't you guys too early?"

"We are." Lukas replied.

Vlad just patted the Italian's head earning a slap to his hand. "We can manage this," he continued, undeterred, "You both can go home now," he elaborated.

"Thank fucking goodness. I can't take that shitty giant sized Korean pain the ass. " Lukas snorted at the eloquent insult. Lovino had a way with words.

Lukas watched as Lovino stalked off to the staff room before glancing at Vladimir questioningly who just shrugged and raised his hands defensively. "Less people for you to manage. And it's, like, 10 AM. Less customers." He gestured toward the five people scattered on the couches. "I'm sure we can deal with it."

"Whatever." Lukas mumbled as Yong Soo bounded over to them. "Hey, hey, was that Lovi? We can go? But we've got, like, fifteen more minutes le – "

Vlad patted his shoulder. "S'okay. We'll take care of it. Gives Lukas less people to take care of."

Yong Soo laughed good-naturedly. "Sure. Thanks guys!" He turned slightly and waved enthusiastically at the blonde he'd been giving a drink too before. She stared at him unresponsively before turning back to her drink. "She loves me," Yong Soo confided to them and gave her a huge wink.

"Whatever you say, kid," laughed Vladimir. "Now, off you go."

"Yep! Bye, dudes." Yong Soo sped off after one last glance at the woman.

Vlad sighed and leaned against the bar. The bar was mostly empty. There were only three people scattered around now, their noses buried in their drinks. As Lukas grabbed a washcloth and a random glass just to do something, he couldn't help but succumb under the depressing atmosphere. The morning shifts were relaxing but were tinged with emptiness. Only the sad and lonely came in the mornings.

Lukas wondered what the blonde woman's story was. She came here every morning dressed in a sharp fitting suit, ordered a single glass of vodka and nursed her drink until Yong Soo's shift ended, after which she hovered around for a few more minutes before paying her tab and going away. As if sensing him thinking about her, the woman stood up abruptly and murmured something indecipherable. Vladimir shot up to her to collect her tab.

Lukas sighed as he watched her walk away. It was going to be another long two hours.

* * *

"Miri!"

"Hey, squirt!"

Lukas smiled faintly as Emil's face lit up.

Vladimir sat down on the edge of Emil's bed and ruffled his hair.

"How's my favourite kid doing?"

"I'm good!" Emil chirped before crinkling his nose in confusion. "But isn't Ion your favourite kid?"

"Ah," Vladimir leaned forward and whispered loudly to him, "he _thinks_ he is, but shh. But you'll always be my number one."

Emil giggled and pressed his index finger to his lips and nodded. Vladimir giggled along and whispered something inaudible to Lukas in his ear and Emil sneaked a glance at his brother and laughed harder.

Lukas sighed and slapped Vladimir's head before sitting down on the other side of the bet. "Stop corrupting his mind. He's _ten_."

"Oh, poo," Vladimir stuck his tongue out at him. "You brother is such a spoilsport, Emil."

Emil started to nod before seeing the look on Lukas' face and opted to shake his head furiously. Lukas relaxed his glare and his lips quirked up into a faint smile.

"Oi!" Vladimir protested. (Seriously, Lukas thought wryly, the man was still a child.) "You can't just use that scary face of yours to get him on your team!"

Lukas shrugged. "I see no law against it. You're being a baby."

Vladimir's jaw fell open and he whipped towards Emil his mouth working in mock protest. "Emil!" he whined. "Your brother's being a meanie!"

The young boy was trying very hard – and failing – to stifle his laughter. "But," he said, between giggles, " _you_ started it, Uncle Miri!"

" _Uncle_?!" Vlad's hand flew to his chest and he moaned, "I am not old. No, no, _no_. I refuse to accept this." He stood up, drawing to his full length as Emil roared with laughter and Lukas snickered. "You . . . you guys are _horrible_." He drew his phone from his pocket and shook it vigorously. "You know what? I'll be going to call Arthur Kirkland now, my _one true friend_ since Emil and his evil big brother have apparently abandoned me."

Vladimir sniffed derisively and stormed out of the room. Emil's laughter faded as he watched Vladimir go. "He's not really – "

"No." Lukas smiled softly and reached out to squeeze his little hand grasping the sheets. "Not offended. Just being Miri. He'll be back."

Emil picked up his smile again. "Okay!" He paused before continuing, "Why didn't Artie come?"

"Alfred was being stupid."

"Oh." Emil nodded understandingly. "Poor Uncle Artie," he said morosely.

Lukas smiled. The boy reminded him of himself sometimes. "Yes," he agreed, "Poor uncle Artie."

"Can I read my book now?"

"Of course." Lukas picked up the dog-eared copy of Harry Potter and handed it to Emil, earning a 'thank you!" from him. He watched as his brother flicked over to the page he'd left off at and buried himself in words. It was almost normal, this atmosphere. Except the fact that they were in a cramped hospital room. And that there were those beeping machines hooked up to his little brother. And that unnerving smell of death that hovered around in every hospital.

(Lukas was tired.)

The sound of turning pages was the only thing that interrupted the deafening silence. Something inside Lukas' chest twisted as Emil turned a page the tube attached to the back of his hand glinting in the sunlight falling into the room through the windows. He didn't have his beautiful pale blond hair _(their mother's hair_ ) anymore and his skin seemed to stick to his bones. He looked so fragile – like Lukas could just touch him and he would fall apart.

Just when he could feel his mind drifting off into dangerous territory, Emil broke in.

"Lukie, what does this word mean?"

Lukas blinked and stared at Emil for a second before leaning forward. "Which one?"

He leaned forward.

 _Distractions_ , he mused as he settled back down in the hard plastic chair and Emil resumed reading, feeling considerably calmer _, they do help._

(An image of wild blond hair and blue, blue eyes and The Smile flashed through his mind.

– _"you're more interesting than polishing tables"_ –

– _"you look very . . . I don't know, sad? I want to change that."_ –

Distractions.

He clamped down on the image, because _no_.

Lukas wondered how the hell he was going to go to the café tomorrow.)

* * *

Lukas stopped short two blocks away from the café and bemoaned his entire existence.

 _"Hej!"_ the blond monstrosity practically _screamed_ , earning disgruntled looks from the few people around at 6 AM in the morning. "Lukie, heyyy! Hey, why are you walking away? Lukie!"

Oh, _for fuck's sake._

Lukas paused in walking away and glanced at the graffiti splattered walls of the building beside him, wondering if he could blend in with them so as to avoid the fucking shitfuck who had now stopped waving wildly and was bounding towards him.

He watched disdainfully as the man stopped in front of him, bending forward to rest his hands on his knees, panting.

"You have a job," he grit out as the man straightened.

Matthias smiled that stupid smile of his and nodded. "That I do! _And_ I happened to notice that you're going the same way as me." He held up his arm. "Shall we?"

Lukas stared dumbly at the offered arm. "Um."

He glanced up at the man who was still smiling and looking at him expectantly.

"You're weird," he said bluntly.

"I know," the man chirped. "And annoying, I've heard. But I like it. It's better to be _something_ than nothing."

Well, that was surprisingly poignant of him.

"It's two blocks," Lukas tried.

"Two _whole_ blocks. What if you get mugged along the way?"

Well then.

"I'm not holding your arm," Lukas said lamely. He'd lost.

Matthias lit up like the fucking Christmas tree. "Deal!"

He put down his arm and started to walk (or rather, _skip_ ). They were silent for the entirety of the walk (which wasn't much, to be honest). It wasn't awkward in the least; but more of a companiable sort of silence with Matthias humming a song under his breath (not Norwegian, Lukas realized, but Danish).

They paused at the doors and Matthias turned to grin at him (he did that a lot; was a human supposed to have infinite amounts of sunshine?).

"Well, I gotta get screamed at by my evil little brother now!" he said. "Don't take orders from wayward waiters and wait for me, yeah?" For the first time since Lukas had met him, his demeanor changed. Something akin to nervousness flashed through his eyes and he rubbed the back of his neck. "I mean, if you _want_ to. I'm not forcing you or anything."

Lukas stared at him for a moment before succumbing to internal turmoil. Holy shit. _Holy shit_. Why was his heart doing things? There was nothing remotely romantic about this, but that face, there was something about the way he bit his lip and the light in eyes shined like _wow, were eyes supposed to be so blue were people supposed to be so beautiful could Matthias hear his pounding heart –_

He looked away, his ears burning, and huffed out gruffly, "Yeah, okay, whatever, _fine_."

Matthias almost _glowed_ with joy.

"Yeah," he said.

"Yeah," Lukas mumbled.

"Are you guys going to come in already?" a voice interrupted them, and Lukas jerked his eyes away from Matthias to look at Timo looking at them with an exasperated yet fond look on his face. "You're blocking the doors. And Matthias you're _late_."

If anything, Lukas felt more colour rise to his cheeks. He involuntarily tightened his hold on his satchel's strap and mumbled a 'yes' before ducking past Timo, away from Matthias defending himself.

This _feelings_ thing was going to be a problem.

* * *

 ** _useless author's useless a/n:_ **_reviews inspire the shit out of me ;v;_


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